The Only Friend Left
by BlackBlackBlue
Summary: Arthur's life is becoming a mess. One day after a disastrous UN meeting, Francis goes to visit, but soon finds himself out of his depth. WARNING:Self harm and Magic included! Non-Slash.
1. Chapter 1

Things weren't looking good for Arthur Kirkland.

The UN meeting had been a disaster, with constant complaints being directed at him. Stuff from years ago were being dug up and thrown in his face, and not a single country stuck up for him. America had betrayed him by agreeing with the complaints, and England couldn't help but feel a sense of isolation.

One of his former colonies, one that he didn't dare mention, was being unreasonably unfair towards him, demanding compensation for events that took place centuries ago. England wouldn't have normally taken this to heart, but the way his closest allies had ganged up against him damn near broke his heart. His crown jewels faced being taken away, and the queen was even considering abdication. The commonwealth members were heading in different directions and England had never felt so depressed.

The weather around his house was reflecting his mood, rain falling in solid sheets. Thunder boomed every few seconds, and the lights inside flickered and died, giving the house an eerily spooky look. Arthur could swear he could hear somebody muttering between lightning, but he dismissed it as Uni playing a prank on him again. But today was not a day for jokes, today was a type of day that England would get royally pissed and wake up in a terrible mood tomorrow.

Suddenly out of nowhere, there came a hammering on the door. Arthur peered suspiciously down the hallway, wondering what type of person would bother to come visiting in the middle of he storm. It had better not be Scotland, because he was in no mood to argue about independence with the red-head today.

" What the hell do you want!" Arthur bellowed, loosing his temper " You want to bother me some more! Piss of Scotland, you great %$$!"

" Open the door Anglettere!" Francis called back " I've bought wine, ma chere!"

" Go Away!" Arthur shouted back, throwing the nearest item he could find towards the direction of the Frenchman's voice. It turned out to be his favourite teacup, which did not improve his mood in the slightest. " I'm not in the mood, in case you haven't noticed, you frog-faced pillock!"

" I know, I know, which is why I have come!" France replied " Open the door, or I'll break it down moi-self!"

Muttering darkly to himself, England wrenched the door open and was immediately soaked in rain and deafened with the shrieking and wailing wind. Francis barged past him indoors, slamming the door shut for him.

" Ah Lapin, I've come to keep you company!" Francis chirped, his hair plastered to his scalp " We all knew you would be in a bad mood, you were always such a dramatic princess.."

" Call me princess again, I dare you" England growled, stalking into his living room, " What do you want Francis?! My land? My queen? Or perhaps my corpse, I know that would please you no end..."

" Oh non,non,non Anglettere, do not say such things!" Francis scolded, setting his wine down on the plain coffee table " Would you like me to cook you some dinner, chere?"

" Oh go rot in a hole" Arthur grumbled, glaring at him " Why are you pretending to be nice Francis, we both know your too warped and twisted for that-"

" Oh Arthur, I'm trying to help!" Francis sniffed, wounded " Like it or not, we're allies, and Amerique has upset you, I can see zat_"

" No one has upset me" England interrupted hastily, " It's just unpleasant, to be set upon after all this time"

" Oui, oui England, I understand" Francis reassured him " I am the same, do you not remember our old days at sea together, killing each other whenever we had ze chance?"

" Good days" Arthur sighed, There was a moment of silence as hazy memories came back, but he quickly dragged himself out of his nostalgia. " But you're not here to revisit old memories are you? What do you want?"

" Nothing!" Francis insisted, looking offended " Honestly Anglettere, I came to see how you were feeling! Canada sends his greetings by the way, but I have not heard from Amerique.."

" As if I care for that minger" Arthur scowled childishly. " What are the rest of them saying?"

" Oh, nothing ma chere, not much" Francis replied casually, but the glare he received quickly made him crumble " OK, OK, I admit that ,oui, Allemagne is finding it hilarious, along with most of Europe and your former colonies are ganging up against you, but apart from zat..."

" Francis, do you think I'm a failure?"

France looked visibly taken aback and he opened his mouth several times before replying.

" Non Anglettere, no more than the rest of us" He murmured softly, " Empires never last, you should know that. I thought you had accepted it!"

" Well I had, but things have changed in the last couple of weeks" Arthur muttered. He had no idea why he was spilling everything to his so-called worst enemy, but it was good to get everything off his chest. " You know, I was thinking just the night before that maybe it's time to call quits. Go to bed, you know?"

A seed of panic began to grow in Francis's heart. He knew England had felt rough for a while, but he sincerely hoped it hadn't got _too_ bad...

" Anglettere, what are you saying?" He asked calmly, his eyes intent on the weary Englishman " You had better not be contemplating..."

" No, no of course not" England protested, albeit a bit uncertainly " I could not do that to my people. But... it was just once you know, and it still wont fade.."

" Show me" Francis ordered, his breathing turning ragged " Show me Anglettere you _imbecile...!"_

Unusually, Arthur did not retort, instead rolling up the sleeve of his dinner jacket to show a row of faded lines. Some where knotted and deep, and some were mere grazes and together they burnt into Francis's eyes. He cursed rapidly in French, grabbing Arthur's slim wrist and gazing at it intently. There was nothing he could do about it now, but to think that _Arthur _would even think about doing such a thing to himself made him want to cry.

" I thought you were steadfast in self-belief" Francis stated, his voice wobbling, dropping the arm as if it was made of fire " Oh ma Lapin, how could you?! I was next door!"

" Yeah, but I hate you" Arthur snapped off handedly, not spotting the flicker of hurt in France's eye " I was drunk and stupid, and believe me Francis, no-one could regret it more than me.."

Suddenly England broke off, gazing around him as if he had just heard something. He cocked his head curiously, bushy eyebrows furrowed in thought.

" What iz it?" Francis asked uneasily, pondering on whether or not to call the hospital "England, what do you hear?!"

Arthur didn't answer, and his face showed that he hadn't even heard him. Francis struck him around the face, putting all his anger and worry behind it.

"What iz wrong with you!" Francis shouted, near tearful " Answer me! Stop ignoring me and listen! I want the old, grouchy Anglettere back, so answer me!"

Arthur's eyes were unfocused and his hair even messier than usual. He looked at Francis with an unusually vacant expression, before gazing up at the ceiling.

" Voices" He mused dreamily, " Must be the sorcery again..."

Francis took a sharp breath in, just as another thunder-clap broke and the lights failed, plunging them both into darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

Francis swore loudly as his surroundings turned pitch black, rendering him blind. He swore again, this time because of his companion.

" You stupid, stupid,stupid Englishman!" He cried furiously, more annoyed with himself than with Arthur " Get up and fix it Arthur!"

There was no reply, and the noise of the storm outside was beginning to wear France down.

" Anglettere, snap out of it!" He snapped, wincing slightly as another thunder-clap broke, almost deafening him "Will you answer me, you son of a goat?!"

No answer, and despite himself Francis was beginning to get worried. He desperately wanted to slap England around the head for being such an idiot and stomp off back home, but a small, minuscule part of him wanted to make sure the island nation would be OK. After the self harming, Francis didn't think he would be able to leave the Englishman again.

But that didn't stop him swearing and complaining profoundly as he picked the limp man off the armchair. He seemed to be unconscious, but Francis couldn't really tell in the lack of light. He was surprisingly light for a grown man, and normally Francis would have enjoyed holding him, but everything seemed to have changed in a such a short space of time. England had just better appreciate France's effort when he came around.

The hallway of England's home was a melancholy place, tall, echoey and made of century old brick. Some parts were made of marble, and some of more modern material, giving the whole house a strange look of age and modern life. There were old portraits of pirate England, of former colonies, and a huge map showing the former British empire. All was thick with dust, and Francis knew Arthur hadn't looked a them in years. Tapestries hang off walls, but there were no sign posts and no clue as to where Francis was at the moment. Candles flickered in the holders, dancing along to the rhythm of rain.

Francis deposited Arthur by a solitary pillar, sighing as the slimmer nation slumped down with his chin against his chest. He was even paler than he had been that morning, and as Francis took the pulse from his neck, he discovered that his pulse was strangely fast, almost humming in fact.

And suddenly, out of nowhere, a voice called out to him.

" He's not going to die, in case if that's what you were hoping" The newcomer called out, smirking " I could wake him up if you like"

Francis stared, and stared, and stared some more. He made the noise of a dying cat in his throat as his eyes processed what he was seeing, but couldn't possible be happening. It just couldn't be possible!

Because right there, in front of Francis's very eyes was England. He was sure it was England, but it just couldn't be. For starters, the doppelgänger's eyebrows were immaculately in place, arched into thin lines. His hair was also much neater, lying in a smooth sweep across his forehead, but apart from that, he was England. Right down from his bright green eyes to his old brown boots.

" I bet you've never heard of me!" England's double laughed, splaying out his hands as if he was on a stage " For I...am the amazing England, the evil version!"

Francis shook his head, closing his eyes tightly as if he was in a terrifying nightmare. Perhaps if he closed his eyes tight enough, he would wake up back home, without any of this mess to ruin his day. However, as soon as he cracked an eyelid open to check if the double had gone, he found a green eye staring solemnly at him, barely an inch away from his face.

Francis yelped and scuffled away on his backside, horrified at the way the doppelgänger could sneak up on him so silently. Evil Arthur, or E.A as France chose to call him laughed mockingly, the sound surprisingly pleasant in such a dingy corridor.

" Oh I'm sorry, " E.A chuckled maliciously, cocking his head at a shivering France " Did I scare you, little froggy? Please accept my sincerest apologies, dearest and nearest neighbour of mine."

" I 'ate sarcasm" Francis grumbled, keeping a suspicious eye on him " What are you? And don't say you're Anglettere, cos you are not him. Not even close."

" Oh, I would have thought I was very similar to him" E.A remarked mildly, " Little Arthur Kirkland. Hmm...yes, I would have thought I would know more about him than anyone else on earth..."

E.A walked silently towards the still unconscious Arthur, kneeling beside him and cupping his hand underneath his chin. The action looked almost loving until Francis noticed the flare of evil in E.A's eyes, and Arthur slight movement to the right as he tried to escape his grip. E.A grinned cruelly, hissing something lowly into Arthur's ears, and France could have sworn a bit of colour faded from his face, making him even paler than before.

" Get away from 'im" Francis growled, stalking towards them " I don't know oo you are, what you want, or where you are from, but you'll keep _away _from Anglettere. You hear me?"

" Loud and clear, Francis dearest" E.A replied, removing his hand from Arthur's chin " But I must say, you do seem to care a bit too much. Arthur hates you, and trust me, I would know. There's nothing to stop you from leaving, before things get out of hand."

Francis narrowed his eyes at him, picking up a note of malice in his words.

" You do not threaten me" Francis scowled, crossing his arms " Whether Anglettere loves or hates me is not of my concern. What are you?"

" I'm a product of sorcery and hate, and my dear Francis, you should be very scared of me indeed!" E.A replied, all previous light heartedness gone from his voice. He now sounded very dangerous. " You have no idea what I have planned for my _darling_ creator."

E.A smiled wolfishly at his prey, and Arthur shivered in his sleep, feeling the full force of his hatred even in his sleep.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

* * *

Meanwhile, on an isle much like England's but much, much more different, an Irishman was enjoying a hearty meal. He was alone, and a storm seemed to be brewing, but that didn't stop him taking an enthusiastic gulp of whisky. He lay back with a contented sigh, brushing a few rogue black locks away from his forehead. His name was Ireland, the republic of Ireland if you wanted to be formal, but for Jack O'Murphy, he had always been plain old Ireland.

Jack stretched out, his sprite-like limbs cracking as they straightened out for the first time all day. Suddenly, out of the blue, a sudden feeling of foreboding came over him, literally striking him like a bullet. He recoiled in his chair, rubbing his shoulder painfully.

" Fecking hell" Ireland grumbled, poking his limb experimentally " Wonder wha' caused that then?"

And just as fast as the first time, another shock of pain hit Jack's arm, this time the right one. He groaned, and clenched his eyes tightly, hissing as the pain began to subside. An image flashed before his eyes and suddenly Jack knew exactly what was wrong. He cursed angrily, both in Gaelic and English as he jumped off his seat, grabbing a cloak as he made his way towards the door.

" Stupid Sasanach" He muttered moodily " Arthur had better not be messing with sorcery again, the useless eejit!"

* * *

**Here comes Ireland!**

**Thanks to those people who reviewed, and if anyone wants to spare any ideas, I'm always free for a PM.**

**Please, please review and tell me what you thought!**


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